Thursday, June 14, 2012

with her head on his shoulder

I could see the bride rest her head lightly on the groom's shoulder from my post in the back of the large, airy chapel.

Beside her, a row of giggling bridesmaids whispered excitedly and across the aisle, a line of straight-faced groomsmen fidgeted nervously in the wooden pew.

Along the back wall we huddled, ushers and dates of the wedding party. Conversation was an attempted hush for our group and centered on business, and babies, and other small talk that makes up life.

There was enough pre-wedding commotion in that chapel to distract anyone, but not the bride and groom. They sat, quietly intertwined, listening to the same song that they would hear in the night to come.

The twenty-four hour countdown had begun and soon they would be standing in front of their friends and family and speaking words they would remember for all their lives. There would be commotion then too; the snapping of cameras, the whispers of awe, the muffles of happy tears.

But for tonight, it was just them. Sitting quietly intertwined, distracted by nothing, so full of love, and with her head resting lightly on his shoulder. 

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